


Roses and Thorns

by DevilMadeMeDoIt



Series: Fire and Ice 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Dean's totally that person who read 50 Shades and was outraged but also just a little turned on), 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, BDSM, Cas is snarky and enjoys Dean-baiting, Crossdressing, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Everything is better with blowjobs, False Accusations, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Porn, misconceptions of BDSM (Dean)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilMadeMeDoIt/pseuds/DevilMadeMeDoIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirty glimpses into the love and life of Sam and Lucifer, their passion, their struggles, their joys and sorrows.</p><p>A non-chronological collection of drabbles, ficlets, and oneshots set in the Fire and Ice 'verse. </p><p>(aka My Attempt to Entirely Pervert 30 Mostly-Fluffy Prompts)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #1: Holding Hands

The last thing Sam had expected when he knocked on the door to Lucifer's study was to be thrown face down over the obsessively neat desk, hands braced beside his head while his Master yanked his slacks down only as far as he needed to shove two well-lubed fingers inside him.  
  
There were no words between them. His usually cool-headed Master fucking him into sweet oblivion on top of precise stacks of half-graded research papers. Sam cried out as his prostate was struck suddenly, breathless moans rising in pitch as the sensitive spot was steadily pummeled. The hands on his shoulders slid down his arms and over his own, fingers sliding between his, stilling them where they had been scrabbling for purchase against the slick polished wood. Sam groaned as he was pressed impossibly further into the desk, the strength of Lucifer's body alone stealing his breath.   
  
A cry was torn from his throat as sinuous rolling thrusts were abandoned, a brutal pace of thrusts so hard and fast Lucifer's hips thudded bruisingly against his ass, cracking into the base of his spine. His Master's fingers clenched around his as his climax tore through him like wild, wicked lightning; holding him tightly, anchoring him in place as Lucifer shuddered to a halt, spilling his own release inside Sam with a hoarse groan and a pulsing rush of heat. 

Arms wrapped around his waist, tugging his limp body back against his Master's as he flopped them both back into the fine leather desk chair in a boneless, sated sprawl. The sweat on Sam's skin was trapped uncomfortably between layers of clothing, his lower belly sticky with come.  A sound of crinkling paper and Lucifer's low, amused chuckle brought him somewhat out of his sleepy lassitude. He cracked an eye to see his Master holding up a hopelessly crumpled research paper and wriggled as his cheeks heated when he saw the wet smear that covered the front page. 

“I should have poor Mr Tran send you a thank you note.” Lucifer chuckled again, nuzzling his face against the damp hair curled at Sam's nape. “Before you came home he was in danger of failing quite spectacularly, but I think I'm feeling rather generous now.”

Sam laughed, feeling lighter and happier now that he was home and cradled in the arms of the man he loved. He tangled their fingers together, drawing them around him further and turned his head, lazily seeking out Lucifer's lips for a sweet, gentle kiss. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean confronts Lucifer, believing mistakenly that he is abusing Sam. With his Master at his side, Sam stands up for himself and their relationship.
> 
> And Castiel is a snarky little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt #20 (cause i don't follow the rules. spank me ;P): In battle, side by side.
> 
> oneshot length, set shortly after their wedding, about 5 years prior to the original F&I timeline. Lucifer's POV.
> 
>  
> 
> **warning for** : accusations of abuse/domestic violence, minor Dean-bashing (character compliant), snark, Luce's flowery language (he's a WASP [or would that be WASC?] dangit, its expected!)

 

 

Lucifer sat in the den, comfortable in his favorite wingback chair, sipping smooth, perfect scotch. He watched as Castiel casually investigated his newest acquisition of relics and antiques, waiting for Sam to return from wherever he had disappeared off to with his brother.

Even after four months of sharing the same space – two of them spent basking in newlywedded bliss – he was still getting used to seeing Sam's things making their home amongst his own. He had enjoyed a peaceful, quiet bachelorhood, but he hadn't spared a second thought to asking Sam to move into his loft when the time felt right. The younger man had slid so seamlessly into place in Lucifer's life, as if he was made for it; made for him.

Sam had set up a desk of sorts, and now the low coffee table played host to a weathered old laptop Sam refused to let him replace, notebooks and highlighters, stacks of briefs and case studies, and one massive legal tome – still spread open from where Sam had been poring over it before Lucifer had unceremoniously dragged him away for a quick 'study break'. He had even cleared one entire bookcase for his new husband's growing legal library, including a gorgeous collection of leather bound volumes that had been Lucifer's wedding gift to him; the one for public consumption in any case.

His groin tightened with remembered pleasure as the memory of the _private_ gift he had bestowed upon his sweet submissive pet on their wedding night.  
  
As if thought alone had summoned him, Sam strode through the door on long, graceful legs; a sheepish smile doing nothing to diminish the pure heat radiating from warm hazel eyes as Sam crossed the carpet to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. Lucifer nipped gently at the full lower lip, a sincere promise of _later_ , answered in the affirmative by the tiny, delicious hitch of Sam's breath. 

A throat cleared somewhere in the room and they parted – reluctantly – although the blush that stained Sam's cheeks was almost worth the interruption. Sam perched on the arm of Lucifer's chair, allowing him to slide seeking fingertips beneath the hem of his t-shirt and delighted in the shiver that resulted when skin met skin.

He managed to tear his eyes away from Sam's and looked up to see Dean in the doorway, jaw clenched tight, something fierce flashing through his eyes as he took in their intimate position. Castiel huffed – likely feeling ignored by now – and Dean's attention was drawn to where Lucifer's brother had moved to lounge artfully on the sofa. If anything, Dean's expression hardened, save for two curiously bright spots of color high on his cheeks. Castiel cocked one eyebrow and smirked.

Lucifer met Sam's pointed glance and rolled his eyes as his husband clamped his lips together to hold back his laughter. Their brothers had been circling each other nearly as long as they had been together and time would only tell when they would finally cease dissembling and work out all of that obvious sexual tension.

Ignoring them, Sam dropped another quick peck to his mouth and straightened. “I'm gonna go get dinner started.” He looked between the three other men in the room with mock-sternness. “You boys play nicely.”

Sam grinned cheekily at Lucifer's raised eyebrow and breezed out of the door for the kitchen.

The two of them had painstakingly plotted out a daily routine once Sam had moved in upon completion of their six month trial contract; choosing – much to Lucifer's quiet pleasure – to commit to a lifestyle contract wherein Sam would be in the role of submissive to his Dominant twenty-four/seven. Lucifer had been honored to have been given such a gift, and as such, sought to correct any misgivings Sam may have had, and to give the young man as much control over his own schedule as he desired. Once they had agreed, one of Sam's chosen duties was cooking their meals, making allowances of course for the days and evenings that his young law student attended classes, but for the most part Sam seemed to truly enjoy cooking for them both.

Dean was still standing by the door, arms crossed and feet braced shoulder width apart, bristling with some unknown emotion. Lucifer looked between his brother and the other man, but Castiel merely looked bemused by the behavior. Dean had never exactly warmed to Lucifer, but this seemed excessive, especially when the man was a guest in his home.

He stood with a sigh and moved to the sideboard where an array of crystal decanters held various liquors. He lifted a bottle, gesturing in Dean's direction. “Drink, Dean?”

Dean snorted derisively. “What, no cigars? What the hell kinda 1950's set-up you got goin' here, asshole?”

Both of Lucifer's eyebrows made a hasty bid for his hairline at the harsh tone. “Pardon?”

Dean scowled. “You got Sammy as your little housewife, cooking your dinners, cleaning your fancy ass loft, waiting on you hand and foot. He fucking works his ass off in school and you've got him playing French maid when he comes home?”

Castiel choked on a laugh. “Charming mental image, that.” Ever eloquent was his brother.

Deans eyes flashed dangerously and he took a step forward, as if unsure exactly which Novak brother was more deserving of his ire.  
  
Lucifer replaced the decanter with care as he tried to quietly sort through this sudden onslaught. “I confess Dean, I'm not quite certain where this...aggression is coming from. Sam is happy here. _We_ are happy. He does nothing he does not wish to do.”

Apparently that was rather the wrong thing to say. Before he could blink, the other man had a fist twisted in the front of his shirt and had him shoved up against a glass-fronted cabinet that housed his prized collection of Bibles.

Dean's breath gusted in his face like the puffing snorts of an enraged bull, so close were they pressed together. Dean's eyes darkened with anger as he spoke lowly through gritted teeth. “I saw the bruises, you enormous fucking bag of dicks. It's not enough you make him into your little house bitch, but you have to beat him too?” Understanding rose with the level of Dean's voice; he had hoped that Dean might have reacted differently, but within the context, he could perhaps understand where the man was coming from.

Sam's shocked gasp ripped through the fraught tension. “What the hell, Dean?! Stop!” Sam's voice was panicked and furious and Dean was pushed away by two large hands as Sam came between he and Lucifer. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Sam turned to Lucifer and brushed worried hands over his face and down, straightening his now terribly wrinkled shirt-front. Lucifer took one and kissed the knuckles, drawing Sam back against his side.

This battle was one he had anticipated, given the nature of their relationship, but he doubted that either of them had expected it to explode so violently.  
  
Dean's disbelief was apparent. “Are- Same are you seriously _defending_ this abusive douche?”

Sam's earnest consternation would have likely been adorable in any other situation, but when Lucifer squeezed his hand, nodding significantly at the questioning look he received when their eyes met, he knew the moment Sam realized what he was trying to say. His lovely eyes closed in frustrated misery.

“Dean,” Sam's voice was firm with a faintly plaintive undertone. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I don't- Sam! You have _bruises_ and what looks like freakin' belt marks all down your back! Don't fucking try to deny it! I saw them when you took off your sweatshirt and the back of your t-shirt pulled up. Don't tell me, you ran into a doorknob? Fell down the stairs?” Dean scoffed. “He's _beating_ you, Sam! Does he force you to fuck him, too?”

Sam's mouth gaped wide for a long moment before he sprang into action. Lucifer barely managed to hold him back when the young man would have lunged for his brother's throat. It wasn't that the accusations didn't infuriate him to the nth degree, but Lucifer had rather quite a lot of experience controlling the way he expressed his anger.

In this instance, Sam was beautiful, incandescent with his rage, and he was loathe to bridle such an honest response, but he knew Sam's relationship with his brother was important to him and his young husband would only drown in guilt if he actually hurt his brother when he surfaced from his anger.

Lucifer cleared his throat sharply and Sam immediately stilled beside him at the wordless command. Sam inhaled deeply, slowly releasing the breath, grounding himself and allowing the tension to fairly drain from his entire body.

A soft sound of surprise from the sofa dragged his attention to his brother's wide blue eyes. He stared at Sam in quiet awe. “Very impressive, Lu.”

Dean growled. “Impressive?! What the _fuck_ are you talking about? He obviously has my fucking brother brainwashed to be his slave and you think its _impressive_?!”   
  
Castiel rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. “Dear Dean. Sam is not being abused. He _likes_ it.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, feeling Sam's earlier misery. He wished his brother would desist in trying to help the situation.

Dean laughed, a short bark of incredulous sound. “You know what? Fuck you. You're just as much of an asshole as your asshole brother.”

“Dean that's enough.” Sam's voice was cold, almost deadly.

“No, Sam. I fucking told you it was a mistake to marry a guy you'd only known for _six fucking months_ , and I was right and you know it! You need to get ou-”

“Shut up, Dean. Now. Lucifer is my husband and you _will not_ speak to him this way. What's more, I am your _brother_ and you will not speak to _me_ this way.” Lucifer felt a wash of something like pride. He knew Sam was more than proud to be his submissive, but to hear him defending himself and their relationship made his chest ache with emotion. 

He had learned from Sam about his childhood, the way Dean constantly tried to protect him, even long after he had grown to be able to protect himself. Sam had almost always deferred to Dean out of guilt, and he was pleased to see Sam finally standing up for himself.

“But-” Dean continued obstinately, only to be cut off.

“No. Lucifer and I have a unique relationship, one that is mutually fulfilling, and most importantly, founded in love and respect. We would be more than happy to discuss it with you and sort through whatever massive misunderstanding you're clearly having right now, but I refuse to talk to you if you insist on behaving this way.” Sam sighed, but soldiered on. “I'm tempted to demand that you apologize to Lucifer for your accusations, but right now...right now I think I'd just like for you to leave.” 

Dean seemed to deflate, eyes pleading for forgiveness. “Sammy, wait-”

Lucifer felt Sam take a breath to retort, but he wrapped an arm around him, squeezing his hip reassuringly, knowing his temper was a fine thread away from snapping again. “I believe my husband asked you to leave, Dean.” He said, calmly taking control of the tense situation.

Dean's scowl returned, fists clenching at his sides. “Fine.” He spat, turning away to stomp toward the door. At the last minute he looked back, searchingly flicking between his brother and Lucifer.

Sam smiled tightly. “I'll call you when we've both calmed down, okay? I am glad you came over Dean. I missed you.” Dean nodded but did not respond.

“I missed you too, Dean.” Castiel smirked and waggled his fingers. Dean's neck flushed furiously red and he shoved through the door without looking back, muttering something under his breath that sounded like 'dick.' 

Sam sagged in relief and Lucifer pressed a kiss to his temple. Sam's breath hitched at the touch and before Lucifer could say a word, he was shoved up against the cabinet once more, though much more pleasantly this time as Sam attacked his neck and jaw with lips and tongue and teeth, needy whimpers escaping as frantic fingers clawed at the buttons of his shirt.

He knew that Sam was feeling out of control, that he needed his Master to take that control, and he would die before he denied this sweet, beautiful creature what he needed. Lucifer tangled a hand into Sam's hair and dragged his face up for a blistering kiss, mapping the terrain of his husband's mouth with his tongue, searching for revelation in the wet, willing mouth at his mercy.

Glass and crystal clinked as Castiel served himself, reminding Lucifer abruptly that they were not alone. He pulled Sam's head back by his hair, enjoying the resulting whine as Sam was denied his kisses and looked over at a highly amused Castiel.

Castiel held out his hands with a laugh. “Don't stop on my account.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, as he so frequently tended to do in his younger brother's presence. Castiel was an utter hedonist, and clearly a voyeur to boot.

“Goodbye Castiel. I trust you can see yourself out.” He said as pointedly as possible half a second away from pushing Sam to his knees and filling that sinfully eager mouth, regardless of their audience.  
  
Castiel set down his glass with a long-suffering sigh. “If you insist, brother. Perhaps I'll go console Winchester the elder. Such fire in that one. Delicious.” Blue eyes gleamed wickedly, but he left the room all the same, throwing a careless wave over his shoulder and closing the door with a decisive _snick_ .

Lucifer returned his attention to Sam's flushed face, his wide unfocussed eyes and tightened his fingers, nails scraping gently against his scalp as he took a firmer hold of his hair. Sam panted as he raised an eyebrow and he felt his lips curve into a satisfied smirk.

“On your knees, pet.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt #8: Cosplay
> 
> Sam was going to _kill_ Ruby for her stupid idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to practice my drabbling skills with this one. alternating POV's.
> 
> **warning for** : humor, light angst, crossdressing, panties, embarrassment

 

Lucifer's mouth was drawn into a tight line, face unreadable. Sam stood in place and struggled not to squirm. His little 'outfit' and utter embarrassment were not helping in the least.

“So...um....what do you think?” Sam felt pathetic, practically begging for Lucifer to say something. _Anything_.

Lucifer's lips twitched and Sam stomach felt like lead. The man who had captivated him so completely only a few short weeks ago, the man who had shown him pleasure so consuming he could never have imagined it, _that_ man, was standing across the room from him trying not to laugh at him.

~

The last thing Lucifer wanted to do was laugh at Sam, but he was losing that battle by inches.

Sam had been on edge when he'd arrived this evening, eventually revealing that he had a 'surprise' for him. Lucifer's mind had conjured up many deliciously erotic images when Sam disappeared blushing into the master bath with his backpack, but he had not been prepared for what his eager new submissive had planned.

Sam's face fell, and he realized belatedly that he had been asked a question.

He cleared his throat, weighing his words carefully.

“Well...this is certainly a surprise.”

~

Hurt and shame flashed through him. He _was_ laughing at him. Sam was going to _kill_ Ruby for her stupid idea. What had he been thinking? He looked beyond ridiculous.

With a huff he turned on his Mary-Janed heel and stomped back toward the bathroom to change his clothes and leave before Lucifer had the chance to laugh him out of his loft.

He ripped down the zipper of the ludicrously short skirt and unbuttoned the white blouse with trembling fingers.

He sniffed, berating himself for dressing up like a schoolgirl, of all things, when the door opened behind him.

~

Lucifer took in the sight of a shaking Sam standing in the middle of his bathroom in nothing but black satin panties. The white knee high stockings made those legs that he loved to have wrapped around him look miles long.

Sam's face lifted in the mirror and Lucifer felt like an ass. His sweet pet had wanted his approval so badly, and what had he done but laugh in the face of his vulnerability?

Before Sam could say a thing, he moved in and slid his arms around him, fingertips dipping under warm satin.

“Beautiful, my pet. So beautiful.”

~

Later, as they lay in Lucifer's bed, sated and feeling the last of the endorphins fade, Sam was ready to surrender to the blissful sleep pulling at him when Lucifer spoke into the darkness of the bedroom.

“What exactly inspired that...ensemble?”

With his head pillowed over Lucifer's heart and luxuriating in the feeling of fingers running through his hair, Sam had forgotten about his earlier embarrassment. He felt a flush heating his cheeks.

“Uh...my friend from school found out you were a professor. She thought the schoolgirl thing would be hot. Y'know...roleplay?”

He bit his lip, and waited.

~

Despite carefully measured breaths, Lucifer felt Sam's pulse race against him as he waited for Lucifer to respond.

He supposed the outfit made a bit more sense now. It wasn't that Sam had looked any less desirable in the sheer blouse and sinfully short pleated skirt, it was that Sam was so strikingly attractive simply by existing, and Lucifer was typically more interested in stripping Sam nude than dressing him up.

Although...

“Roleplay, did you say?” Sam nodded. “I could be willing to explore that, pet.”

The curve of Sam's smile against his skin was all that mattered.

  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently pretty involved in working on my fic for this year's DCBB and will probably post these sporadically as I find inspiration.
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
